A Bad Day, Turned Good
by Sherlockian87
Summary: Is Sherlock capable of taking care of others, when he can barely take care of himself? The answer is yes. But only when it comes to Molly.


**For SandraDK. Thank you for planting this lovely little idea in my head during a troubling time! :)**

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A Bad Day, Turned Good

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Sherlock deftly and silently picked the lock to Molly's flat. Ever so slowly he pushed open the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. All was quiet. She had sent a text earlier that morning, to say that she wasn't feeling well and that she was going to be staying home from work. For a split second the quiet continued, and then suddenly the sound of breaking glass filled the air, followed by a loud curse. He moved towards the kitchen, where the noises had issued from, only to find Molly hopping around on one foot trying to reach her kitchen table. There were three droplets of blood on the floor amongst the shards.

When she noticed Sherlock standing in the doorway she let out a shriek and very nearly toppled over. She would have in fact done so, if he had not been quick on his feet and caught her in his arms. He quickly hoisted her up and carried her to a kitchen chair. Once he had set her down he grabbed a nearby dish towel, kneeled beside her, and lifted up her leg to look at the bottom of her foot.

"Sherlock, what-OW!- what are you doing here? I thought you had to go to Leeds for a case?" Molly asked him, flinching as he peered at the cut on her foot, gently wiping away the blood.

He let out a sniff. "It was a false tip."

"Oh. Well at least you found out before you traveled all the way there. I thought you had soil samples sent to the lab, why aren't you at Bart's?"

"Well, you told me you weren't feeling well, I wanted to make sure you were all right," he explained as he continued to look at her foot.

"It was just a headache Sherlock, I've napped most of the day away and it's nearly gone. OW!"

"There's a piece of glass in your skin, Molly. Where are your tweezers?"

"I put a pair in my first aid kit," she told him.

He smiled. "That's my girl." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Keep your foot elevated. I'll be right back." He strode from the kitchen.

Molly sighed and leaned back, placing her ankle on the chair in front of her. Sherlock returned a few minutes later, his coat and scarf removed, as well as his suit jacket. He had rolled up his shirt sleeves, and in his hand was the first aid kit. He lifted up her leg, settling himself down in the chair before placing her ankle on the top of his knee. He put the first aid kit onto the table and opened it. She watched him silently for several moments.

"You don't have to do all this, I can clean it myself," she said to him, watching as he took out the bottle of antiseptic and a couple of cotton swabs.

He made a noise of agreement. "I know, but I'm here, and the cut is on the bottom of your foot. I have the advantageous view, yours would be distorted. It is a much better idea for me to do this, than you, it would not be a good thing if any glass was to be left behind."

Her heart soared at the thought that she knew he wanted to do this; that he wanted to take care of her. It was nice for a change; for him to be the one cleaning her up instead of the other way around. That first aid kit of hers had seen a lot of use over the passed couple of years.

She grimaced slightly as he removed the tweezers from their protective casing. He took her foot in his hand and leaned closer to it, eyeing the spot where the shard of glass was embedded. Slowly and gently he removed it before placing it on one of the cotton swabs. After checking to make sure he hadn't missed any other pieces, he put some of the antiseptic on another cotton swab and carefully cleaned the cut. Thankfully it had stopped bleeding. Once he put a plaster over the cut he placed a kiss where the base of her foot turned to ankle.

"You'll have to stay off your feet for a day or two at least," he told her.

"Ohhh ... will I now?"

The low tone of her voice caused him to look up at her.

She was smiling cheekily at him, a naughty twinkle in her eye. "What ever will I do to pass the time?"

He cleared his throat, brushing his thumb over her ankle. "Well - ahh - I may be able to think of something."

She giggled as he leaned forward, before pressing his lips to hers. She cradled his face in her hands, deepening the kiss. When he moved to scoop her up in his arms, with all intentions of taking her to her bedroom, she put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away.

"Shouldn't the mess I made be cleaned up first? I don't want Toby getting hurt."

Sherlock sighed. "Fine. But you're not going to help; you need to stay off your feet. I don't want you cutting yourself again."

He stood and took out the broom and dustpan from beside her refrigerator. He quickly swept up the glass and disposed of it in a paper bag, the bloodied cotton swabs included. Once the tweezers had been cleaned and all of the items returned to the first aid kit, he kneeled back down beside her, peering up at her with the largest puppy dog eyes he could muster. "May I take you to bed now?"

She let out another laugh, draping her arms over his shoulders. "Yes, you may!"

He smiled widely and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to her bedroom. He gently laid her down upon the bed before stepping back and quickly removing himself of his shoes and clothing. Now fully naked he got onto the bed, placing himself directly over her. Their eyes met and he smiled again.

"One of mine is it?" he asked, fingering the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing.

"Mmm." Her breath hitched slightly when he slipped his hand beneath the fabric. She could feel the heat of his palm as he hovered it above her skin.

"Looks good on you. But I think it would look better _off_. Don't you agree?"

She managed a small noise and he chuckled. He took her hands in his and helped her to sit up. When she lifted off the shirt he was unable to hold back a groan as she revealed to him that she was entirely naked underneath.

"Damn you woman!" he growled.

Molly laughed softly as she laid herself back down. Sherlock returned himself to hovering over her, letting out another groan when she wrapped her hand around his length. She gave his cock a few pumps as he muttered curses beneath his breath, dropping his forehead down to her shoulder.

She cried out when he suddenly dipped his fingers between her slick folds, ghosting a fingertip over her clit. He did this several more times, before plunging two fingers into her core and dragging his thumb across her clit. She cried out once more, her body shaking from the shocks of her building orgasm. She dropped her hand away from his cock, clutching at the bed sheet. With a loud moan, and a rise of her hips, she came. He stilled his fingers inside of her, but continued to stroke her clit with his thumb. He greatly enjoyed watching her come undone by his ministrations.

As her body gave a final shudder he slipped his fingers from her and sucked them clean. She hummed contentedly, opening her eyes to peer up at him. When she returned his hand to around his cock he gave a slight yelp. She smiled cheekily at him and he let out a low growl. He tugged her hand away and centered himself, before sliding his length inside of her.

They moaned in unison, nestling skin to skin. She kissed him, moaning once more when he began to move. Their bodies rocked in a gentle rhythm, hands and mouths wandering, stroking, and kissing. When she came, he followed her only several moments later.

As their heart-rates and breathing slowed they silently laid curled around each other. Molly had her hand in his hair, running her fingers through his curls. One of his hands was idly stroking her hip, his mouth peppering her skin with soft kisses.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?" His voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

"I love you."

These three little words had yet to be spoken by either one of them, but had been often implied. She decided that now was the opportune time to say them.

His lips grew still against her skin. Molly feared that perhaps she had decided wrong. Her heart thumped in her chest. He slowly raised his head, and she forced herself to meet his gaze. The fear that was surging through her body faded away when she saw the tender expression in his eyes.

"I love you as well," he said to her.

She pulled him back down to her, their lips meeting in a passion-filled kiss.

"I meant to tell you sooner," he murmured between kisses.

"Did you?"

"Mmmm, should have told you years ago." He kissed her again, shifting so that her body lay directly between his legs.

She smiled against his lips. "Better late than never!"

He hummed, kissing her once more. He then pulled away and stared down at her. "Will you let me take care of you Molly?"

She tilted her head to the side. "I thought that's what you did earlier, with my foot?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. I did. But I don't mean just with things like that, I mean everything, all the time."

She blinked at him. "Sherlock Holmes, are you proposing?"

He looked off to the side, appearing to think for a moment. Then his eyes locked back onto hers. "Yes. I am."

"You really want to—marry me?"

He was affronted. "Of course I do! I wouldn't be asking you otherwise, now would I?"

She bit down on her bottom lip. "No. I suppose not."

He could sense that she was still unsure. "Molly, I love you! Why should we not get married? The sex is fantastic, we work together all the time in the lab and with my cases, and you've been more often at Baker Street than you've been here. Besides Bart's is much closer to my flat, than yours, and Toby does tolerate me rather well. I don't think he would mind the move. And when I'm in one of my, how do you put it? Sherlockian moods, you can go up to John's room to escape from me. You can make that room into whatever you like!"

She was starting to smile now. "You've thought about this, for quite a while, haven't you?"

The tiniest hint of red washed over his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "Ahh yes, since the first night we were together."

She giggled, tugging him a bit closer to her. He smiled in return.

"So, what is your answer?" He held his lips directly above hers.

"Mmmm …" She hesitated for several moments, knowing that she was taunting him. "YES!"

He gave her a searing kiss, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him.

"I should have broken a glass sooner!" she murmured breathlessly.

He let out a snort, delighting in the sensation of her breasts pressing up against him. "The breaking of glass had nothing to do with my deciding to ask you."

"No?"

"No." He brushed her hair back over her shoulder.

"What was it then?"

He exhaled slowly. "I'm not really sure. It seemed like a good moment."

"Mmm, it was." She smiled down at him. "A very good moment."

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 **Eheeee! Hope you liked it my dear!**

 **And I seriously cannot seem to get these two out of bed, to stop shagging, or Sherlock to not propose to her. Ahh well … it's not really a bad thing is it?! ;)**


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